


Creatures crawl in search of blood, to terrorize y’all’s neighborhood

by Toomanyfandoms99



Series: (No Longer A) Secret Marriage [35]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Secret Marriage, Soul Bond, Wayward Sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 15:26:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15975158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toomanyfandoms99/pseuds/Toomanyfandoms99
Summary: They had reached an equilibrium, a strong foundation, a steady balancing act.That was when Dean knew it would all fall apart.





	Creatures crawl in search of blood, to terrorize y’all’s neighborhood

**Author's Note:**

> This is the final time lyrics from the title will be taken from “Thriller” by Michael Jackson. Enjoy!

Dean avoided John in Heaven’s prison for weeks.

Dean and Castiel were in a lovely breather period. The five remaining escaped monsters from Hell’s rift have been in hiding. Dean knew they would show up eventually, but Heaven was engaged in a waiting game.

Balthazar and Jack, especially, were glad for this temporary reprieve. Heaven’s leader and the nephilim have been working themselves into exhaustion. And Dean knew that, no matter what they said, even the most powerful angels needed rest.

Dean and Cas took this time to explore Heaven and visit their family members. Mary showed them some areas of Heaven she had discovered throughout her stay. Dean went to fix cars in Bobby’s Heaven whenever he chose to. The couple went to visit Ellen at her Heaven, Dean and Castiel trying their best to get drunk. They showed Jody around Heaven, even though she preferred to stay in her own home. They hung out with Donna in her police precinct Heaven, enjoying the endless pie machine. And lastly, they would go to Heaven’s headquarters to visit Balthazar, Jack, and the angel children Cas had raised that were now fully grown. 

When they weren’t doing those things, Dean and Castiel spent their alone time with Soda, letting the dog roam free.

Or doing all the inappropriate things that married couples do.

They had reached an equilibrium, a strong foundation, a steady balancing act.

That was when Dean knew it would all fall apart.

And it did when Mary asked to see John in prison.

All of the conflicting thoughts and emotions that Dean could ignore before came back with full force. He suddenly couldn’t wait until this entire ordeal was over, and he wouldn’t have to feel so dreadful anymore.

But Dean could not deny his mother what she wanted. It had taken her weeks, but Mary was ready to see John. Dean had only seen his father twice during his entire stay in Heaven; the first time was to capture him, and the second time was after killing a pack of demons invading Heaven’s prison.

Dean had not gained the courage to see John. And besides, John didn’t deserve Dean. Cas was abundantly clear about his position on the matter. Dean agreed with his husband readily, but still couldn’t help but feel like he’d done something wrong. Every time Dean tried to articulate this feeling, Cas would assure him that he was in the right and John was in the wrong. But now, there was no avoiding John anymore. He had to go with Mary for support. 

He didn’t want to leave her alone with his father, anyway.

————

“You sure you don’t want me to go any further?”

Dean squeezed Cas’s hands for comfort at the entrance to Heaven’s prison. Mary was examining her surroundings, giving them the illusion of privacy.

The illusion was all Dean needed.

Dean replied to Cas, “I need to do this part with only my mom.”

Cas nodded in understanding, placed a kiss on Dean’s forehead, and spoke quietly. “Be strong for her.”

“And only be weak for you,” Dean added softly.

Cas slid his hands out of Dean’s. “I’ll be right here.”

Dean hummed, cleared his throat, and went to Mary. She pretended not to be eavesdropping the whole time, but Dean recognized the evidence to the contrary. “Feeling okay, Mom?”

Mary nodded, and the prison entrance gate was opened.

————

“Mary?” John asked in disbelief.

Dean watched the exchange with a blank expression. “Hello, John,” Mary said neutrally.

John asked Dean, “can I be alone with your mother for a moment?”

“No.”

John pursed his lips. “This is my wife, Dean.”

Mary snorted at the possessive comment.

Dean said matter-of-factly, “she doesn’t want to be alone with you.”

John’s face fell, and he looked at Mary for confirmation. “Is that true?”

“Yes,” Mary replied, a quiet anger brimming from underneath her mask. 

There was a silence.

Dean almost felt bad for John. He killed the thought before it could fully form.

“Why don’t you want to be alone with me?” John asked, trying to understand.

If only he was so understanding with Dean’s sexual preferences.

“Oh, so many reasons,” Mary said, preparing herself for an explanation that John surely wouldn’t like. “First, instead of raising my sons like normal kids, you put guns in their hands and taught them to hunt. Second, you became a raging alcoholic because you wouldn’t grow the fuck up and mourn for me in a healthy manner.” Dean smirked at that. “Third, you would leave my sons in motels for days, forcing Dean to care for Sam and beating him when he didn’t live up to your standards.” Mary was enraged as she continued on, and Dean loves every second of it. “Fourth, you destroyed my sons’ lives, physically and mentally. Fifth, the set of beliefs you instilled in Dean and Sam are not ones I agree with, and they’ve both suffered as a result.” Cas. Mary was talking about Dean marrying Cas. “Sixth, you made Dean your little soldier and hated Sam for not falling in line, which had mental repercussions for them both. Seventh, you made them feel like they were never good enough, and made them hate themselves for a good portion of their adult lives. Eighth, you come here now and you spout slurs, making Dean feel like shit again. Learning all of this,” Mary swallowed, her Sam-like eyes on fire, “has made me realize that you were not the man I thought you were. This,” Mary gestured to a somber John, “is not who I married. Not even close. So, you have two options.” Mary held up a finger. “One, you leave us alone forever and go back to Hell.” She held up a second finger. “Two, you fix your attitude and make a fucking effort with your sons. If you do that, I will consider,” she emphasized that last word, “speaking to you again.”

Mary spun on her feet and stalked away, not looking back. 

Dean muttered to John, “think about it.”

He left too, catching up with Mary. When they were away from the cells, Dean grasped his mother’s hand lightly. She turned around, her expression containing remnants of steaming rage. Her face softened when Dean wrapped his arms around Mary and held her close.

Dean had never initiated a hug with his mother before. It was awkward, but Mary hugged back tightly. She said into his shoulder, “I’m okay.”

She really wasn’t.

Dean murmured into her wavy blonde hair, “would you like to come back to my and Cas’s Heaven to calm down?”

Mary nodded into his shoulder.

————

Mary had never been to Dean and Castiel’s Heaven. The opportunity to do so perked her up instantly.

Dean met up with Cas at the prison entrance, and they went to the area known as the couple’s shared Heaven. It was comprised of a cabin, woods, and a lake.

Soda greeted Mary excitedly as they entered the cabin. Mary laughed and pet the excitable dog before taking in her surroundings.

She soon gravitated towards one of the cabin walls. It was covered almost entirely with Polaroid photos. It was clear upon examining some of them that it was Dean who was behind the camera.

Castiel never mentioned that Dean had hobbies besides fixing cars. There was so much she still didn’t know about her eldest son, and especially her youngest. 

Mary had been reading the books that Dean gave her when the couple first arrived in Heaven. They were enlightening, but she wasn’t getting the whole picture yet.

Maybe these photographs on the wall would help.

As Dean and Cas busied themselves with making comfort food, — even though they didn’t need to eat — Mary looked at each Polaroid carefully.

Dean and Castiel on their wedding day, inside a small church where they secretly married. A row dedicated to Cas wearing Dean’s clothing in various locations. A few of Cas driving Dean’s — and John’s — beloved Impala. A large section of nature shots, probably taken all across the United States. Vacation photos, a fair amount in places all over the globe. 

Almost every single Polaroid contained Castiel. An oblivious Cas, a preoccupied Cas, a smiling Cas. Some of Cas looking into the camera displaying different emotions in each picture. Confusion, worry, amusement, anger, happiness.

Love.

One Polaroid struck Mary more than the rest. It was of Castiel’s face, his eyes directed a tad upwards from the lens.

Looking right into Dean’s eyes, presumably.

Cas wasn’t one to show a lot of burgeoning emotion in his expression. It was the way he was; Dean was similar in that regard. But the amount of love held within Castiel’s bright blue eyes directed towards Mary’s oldest son made her breath hitch.

This Polaroid was all Mary needed to know about Dean and Cas’s relationship.

True love was rare, but evidence of its existence was staring her in the face. It couldn’t be denied.

Not even John could deny that.

Mary cast John out of her mind as Castiel handed her a cup of tea.

————

Dean felt nervous as Mary observed his Polaroids.

Cas steadied Dean by placing his palm on the back of Dean’s hand. He whispered into Dean’s ear, “let her look.”

Let her look. Let her see the depths of our love.

Dean nodded, and busied himself in the kitchen.

————

Killing a hydra required skill.

Balthazar and Jack knew, of course, how it was supposed to be done. Have one person chop off a head while another person burned the neck to prevent another head from growing.

Easier said than done.

It took an incredibly long time, even with an angel army, but the hydra finally fell dead, nothing left but the body, tail, destroyed wings, and three stumps where its heads used to be.

Balthazar and Jack slept for half a day after that encounter.

————

Dean spent some time with Cas recapping his parents meeting again in Heaven’s prison.

“...totally told him off. It was incredibly brave and absolutely amazing,” Dean concluded, still in awe of what Mary had done earlier that day.

“You could learn from her,” Cas said. “I wonder what he’ll choose.”

“I don’t want him here anymore,” Dean muttered. “It’s like a storm cloud hanging over my head.” A beat. “Our heads,” he corrected.

“I know that’s what you want,” Cas said, “but it’s not what Mary wants.”

Dean sighed. “I can’t imagine them getting back together. I think she wants him to change more than he’s able to. My mom can’t just fix his worldview overnight. Neither could I, or anyone for that matter.”

A lightbulb flashed in Cas’s mind. “Maybe we should have Bobby talk to him.”

Dean’s eyes widened in surprise, and he grinned. “That’s an incredible idea. They were best friends. If Bobby can accept me with no questions asked, then my father could learn from him.” Dean suddenly sat on Cas’s lap, tipping him onto the couch. Cas laid his back along the soft cushions, Dean on top of him. Dean praised, “you’re so smart.” They got lost in each other for a moment, getting caught up in the comfort of kissing.

Cas pried his lips from Dean, short of breath, and said, “you’re an insatiable man, Dean Winchester.”

Dean chuckled. “Oh, hush. You love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

————

Dean’s mind whirred in the darkness.

Cas was asleep, his body still half-exposed to the air. Soda snored softly on the floor by their bedroom door. 

And Dean couldn’t fall asleep.

There was a lot on his mind. Usually making love to his husband helped, but not this time. He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling.

Dean decided to murmur to himself, because — as he learned long ago — talking helped resolve conflicts. “I’m glad you’re not awake, Cas. I don’t know what I’d do if you heard this.” He swallowed. “So, uh, I don’t quite know what’s going on in my head right now. And it’s nothing about us. You’re amazing, actually.” Dean smiled. “You’re the only person grounding me in all this chaos. I love you endlessly for that.” His smile went lopsided. “But, um, my mind is going crazy. I don’t know what my mom will want to do with my dad. I don’t know what’s going to happen if my father decides to stay. The possibilities don’t seem at all appealing to me. My only hope to get this weight off my chest is if John suddenly accepts me. And you, of course.” Dean exhaled through his nose. “I don’t want him near you. The thought sickens me. The father that ruined my life standing next to the angel that I love more than anything haunts me. But if he changes his attitude, you’ll inevitably have to speak. I don’t care if you get along or not, but the thought of not being able to protect you scares me. You’ve protected me for so long, and I can’t stand not being able to do the same for you in return. But if he leaves Heaven for good, I know that my mom will be upset, and think about what could have been.” Dean sighed. “Anyway, um. We have monster stuff to deal with, too. I hope it’s over soon. I hope everything that roadblocks our happiness is over with soon.” Dean felt a little better voicing everything. “So, um, I guess I’ll go to sleep now. Or try. Um.” Dean shifted to his side to say good night to Cas.

Only Cas was awake.

He had been listening.

For how long?

Dean was afraid to know the answer.

His cheeks heated up, and he hid his face in the pillow. He covered his naked body as best as he could.

He had never felt so embarrassed in his life.

A hand rested on Dean’s slightly-exposed shoulder, trying to pull his body away from his face. Dean struggled to remain in the tight ball he had wound himself in. The hand moved to a tuft of hair, carding through blonde strands.

Dean loves when Cas does that.

His body uncurled from its ball a little, his face half-peeking from the pillow. One of Dean’s eyes landed on Cas’s soft expression.

Dean looked at those sparkling eyes, those kissable lips, that concerned expression.

And melted.

Dean let his walls down again, the sheets falling to his stomach and his attention fully directed towards Cas. Dean couldn’t put up a resistance against his husband for long. Castiel Winchester knew Dean better than he knew himself.

Cas drew his body closer, a thin layer of sheets between their nakedness.

It seemed that a lot of serious discussions between them were taking place while they were in the nude, Dean realized. It made these moments clearer, more vulnerable.

Cas cradled Dean’s face in his hands. “Oh, beautiful,” Cas breathed, “your thoughts are so loud that I wish I could quiet them with a few carefully chosen words.” Cas exhaled deeply, their eyes meeting. “But I can’t. And I’m sorry.”

“I don’t expect you to have the answers all the time,” Dean murmured, “but I swear that you really do help me.”

“You didn’t get to rely on anyone until I came around. You needed a crutch, a shoulder to lean on. You’ve got me. You’ve had me. I’m glad that I can help. I wish there was more I could do.”

Dean rested their foreheads together on a whim. He delved into the bond, the line that had been connecting them in mind, body, and soul for most of their marriage. Cas’s thoughts were soft, gentle, caring, sweet, loving. Dean could bury himself in them, bathe in them. “You’re doing everything you possibly can. I love you for it.”

“It’s good to feel appreciated,” Cas said dryly. “Now kiss me, you old fool.”

Dean did as he was told.

————

The next day, Castiel and Dean found two angels sleeping on uncomfortable office couches.

“It’s a good thing I chose to check in on them,” Cas muttered.

“They must have been through hell,” Dean said, observing their sorry physical states.

Jack awoke a few beats later, eyeing Dean and Cas tiredly. “Oh. Hello Dads.” After that nice greeting, he grabbed a couch pillow and threw it across the office. It landed on Balthazar’s face, causing the archangel to wake and sputter. 

Balthazar swatted the pillow away and exclaimed, “why, Jack?!” Before the nephilim could answer, Balthazar saw Dean and Castiel. “Oh. Hi.”

“What happened to you two?” Dean asked, crossing his arms and feeling like a disappointed mother.

“We fought a hydra,” Jack replied nonchalantly.

Dean’s mouth fell open. “A hydra?”

“Yes.”

“An actual,” Dean emphasized, “three-headed dragon?”

“Uh huh,” Jack confirmed.

“Whoa.”

“It’s a shame you weren’t there, Cassie,” Balthazar said. “It was insane.” Cas shrugged in answer, not seeming bothered by a missed opportunity.

“So,” Dean said, “four left.”

“Four left,” Balthazar confirmed.

————

“How in the hell,” Dean asked, “did a wendigo survive in Hell?”

Dean, Castiel, Balthazar, and Jack watched as a wendigo moped around a grassy field in Heaven. It had appeared at midnight, and had alerted an angel watching over the area. Balthazar and Jack had roused the married couple for help. They now watched the wendigo wander the field from behind a small hill, grotesque and without purpose.

It was almost sad.

For a cannibalistic creature.

“Maybe it didn’t live in the fiery areas,” Balthazar suggested quietly.

“Anything can live in Hell,” Jack stated, “even wendigos.”

Dean paused. “I don’t think we can just torch it. You think a flare gun would suffice?”

Balthazar, Castiel, and Jack stared at the former hunter. 

Dean stared back. “What?”

“Are you telling me,” Balthazar said, “that you’ve killed a wendigo with a flare gun?”

Dean smirked proudly. “Multiple times, actually.”

Balthazar was visibly impressed. “Well shit. That’s awesome. Let’s do it.”

They heard a clicking sound. Balthazar, Dean, and Jack turned to see Cas cocking an already-materialized flare gun over the hill and towards the wendigo. Despite concentrating intensely, Cas said in a clipped tone, “what? I’m going to do it.”

Dean smiled amusedly. His husband was at it again. “Go for it.”

Dean, Balthazar, and Jack swiveled their heads towards the open field and the wayward wendigo. They watched over the hill in anticipation and apprehension.

Cas squeezed the trigger, the flare hitting the wendigo smack dab in the middle of its chest. It lit up like a firework, screaming due to the intense heat penetrating the creature’s heart. The fire was inescapable, and the wendigo was consumed by it.

When there was nothing left of the cannibalistic monster, Castiel tilted his flare gun down and clicked it off.

Mouth agape, Dean said fondly, “I love you.”

“Not now,” Cas muttered absentmindedly, tucking the gun into his jeans. “I’m working.”

Balthazar and Jack chuckled. Castiel stood up and stepped over the hill. The group chose to follow Cas through the grass field. 

They reached a pile of ash that used to be the wendigo.

“Three left,” Balthazar said.

“You’re welcome,” Cas said.

————

Castiel woke with a groan. He hadn’t gone to sleep until three in the morning, after the wendigo business was concluded. 

Dean was trying to coax him awake, but Cas was forcing his eyes closed. He didn’t care that it was morning. 

Let me sleep, Dean.

“My mom’s here,” Dean exhaled into his temple.

Did Castiel accidentally say that aloud?

Dean whispered, “c’mon, darlin’. She wants to see my father again, and I need your support.”

That got Cas’s attention. He rolled onto his side and sighed into Dean’s fully-clothed body. He shook his head a little, opening his eyes. “Why?” He mumbled.

“She wants to hear the answer to her ultimatum,” Dean replied. “I need to be there, preferably with you by my side.”

Dean left the bed, giving Cas room to get up. Clad in only boxers, — Dean preferred it when Castiel wore scarcely anything when they were alone — Cas materialized on a black tee and jeans. Feeling a bit too bare, he wore a black windbreaker and his trusty black boots. He scrutinized himself in the mirror quickly and asked his husband, “good enough?”

Dean stood in front of Castiel and made a comb appear in his hands. He swiped it through Cas’s hair, taming his flyaways effectively. He put down the comb, examined his handiwork with a critical eye, and declared, “beautiful.” He pecked Cas’s lips and took Cas’s silver ring-adorned hand. “Now come on.”

————

“Sorry to wake you both,” Mary said. “I heard about the wendigo.”

Dean grinned at his husband, looking like a lovesick idiot. “Cas handled it.”

Cas snorted. “Not now. I’m grumpy.”

Dean and Mary chuckled. As they passed a row of empty cells, Dean said, “Cas had a suggestion about what to do about John.”

“Oh?” Mary prompted.

Cas said, “I was thinking he could talk to Bobby sometime, if he exhibits good behavior.”

Mary smiled, a glint in her eye. “That’s a wonderful idea.”

When they reached John’s cell, all three of their facial expressions stiffened into blank slates. John stood at attention, clearly expecting them.

“What have you decided?” Mary asked.

John answered, “I want to stay here and do what it takes.”

To Dean, John’s sentence sounded like the end.

————

Dean was afraid to speak to John alone. 

But Mary’s encouraging glance and Cas’s loving look as they left helped Dean more than he would care to admit.

Dean materialized a chair and sat in front of his father’s cell. He wouldn’t be the one to start this mending process.

John said, “I’m really glad that you’re here to care for your mother, Dean.”

“She was taking care of herself just fine,” Dean said, trying not to sound too harsh. “But I’m glad to know her, now.”

“How is Sam?”

Dean couldn’t believe it had taken John this long to ask about Sam. Their rivalry still had its effects on John’s mind, Dean supposed. He replied, “he’s alive and determined to live as long as possible.”

John actually smiled. It creeped Dean out. “He’s a stubborn one, when he puts his mind to it.”

Dean sensed no maliciousness in John’s tone, so he let it slide. “He’s married too.”

John’s reaction was rehearsed. “The Scottish angel mentioned that.”

Dean would have to ask what else Balthazar had said to John. He decided to divulge, “he’s my husband’s brother, so be nice.”

Dean found he enjoyed calling Cas his husband cryptically to his father. It was as if saying Cas’s name was taboo, a secret that only those in on it knew.

John’s eyes widened. “That means…”

Dean realized too late what he’d done.

Oh no.

Keep calm. Be cool.

John, to his credit, didn’t look angry. His expression was pensive, but not completely accepting either. “You married an angel.”

Dean thought of everything Cas had sacrificed for him, and decided he wouldn’t apologize for wedding a supernatural being. “Former angel,” he corrected.

John furrowed his eyebrows. “How does that work?”

“He doesn’t have wings anymore. He gave it all up.”

That threw John for a loop. Dean could hear the cogs whirring in his father’s mind. The slightest glimmer of acceptance reached the pits of John’s eyes.

Dean didn’t get his hopes up.

John asked, a little in awe, “he did that for you?”

Dean nodded, concealing the wave of emotions that came with the memory of holding Cas in his arms after he willingly fell from Heaven. He thought of running his finger along the “Dean” tattoo on Cas’s wrist, feeling utterly powerful and beautiful every time he looked at it. He thought of kissing the angel wing tattoo on Cas’s opposite wrist, a constant reminder to Dean of what his husband had sacrificed for him.

Dean shook himself out of the memory. He was talking to his father. He needed more self-restraint.

John dissected Dean’s expression like he was a frog being cut open. 

Dean let him look.

John pursed his lips. “What’s his name?”

Dean didn’t want to answer. But he had to. He chose to add an extra detail to see how John would react. “Castiel Winchester.” 

John seemed to have a realization after Dean said those two words. Dean could see John’s thought in his eyes, and it was thus: my son is in love, and nothing will change that.

John asked, “what about Sam? Who’s he married to?”

Dean replied nonchalantly, “Gabriel Winchester. Cas’s other brother.”

Dean was disappointed and shocked that all the information contained in those five words didn’t give John an aneurysm.

John chose not to unpack that further and moved on. “The kid that’s always with the Scottish guy. He’s your son?”

“Not biologically,” Dean said, “but I helped raise him. It’s the same situation with my daughter.”

“That makes you an old man,” John realized.

“I had a long life.”

“Longer than mine, then.”

Dean nodded.

“Congratulations,” John said. “You’re one of the lucky hunters. Why’d you retire?”

Dean grimaced. “I didn’t. We ended it.”

“Ended what?”

“All monsters. They can’t get to Earth anymore.”

Dean revelled in John’s shock. “I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to.”

John paused. “You’ve changed completely.”

“So I’ve been told.” Dean readjusted in his chair and glanced inside the cell. “You doing okay in there?”

“It’s comfortable.”

Dean saw Cas appear a cell away. Cas looked at him expectantly. Dean stood up. “I have to go.”

Instead of asking what was wrong, John asked, “will I see you soon?”

“I suppose,” Dean said. “Bye, John.” He made the chair disappear and walked towards his husband. Dean read the concern in Cas’s eyes and asked, “what is it?”

“Monster number three has made an appearance.”

Dean sighed, laying a hand on Cas’s cheek absentmindedly. He noticed that the army green of his clothes complimented Cas’s blue tones. Green and blue. The Earth and the Heavens. Nature and the sky. 

Dean cast his thoughts aside. “Ready?”

“Are you?” Cas asked softly.

“I’m alright,” Dean reassured him. “We had a civil conversation. I’m of sound mind to fight.”

Cas smiled. “I’m glad. You’re gonna like this one.”

————

“Holy shit,” Dean uttered from Balthazar’s office window as the archangel and Jack left the room. “It’s fucking Mothra.” He pressed his hands against the glass to steady himself. “Whoa.”

The giant moth hadn’t caused any damage yet, but it was flying in the fields near Heaven’s headquarters, looking awfully terrifying.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Cas said suddenly.

Dean turned towards Cas, leaning against the panoramic window. “Yeah?”

“A long time ago,” Cas began, “Aphra told me,” Dean perked up at the mention of Cas’s old friend Aphrodite, “that she believes you have powers.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Powers?” He chuckled. “If I had powers, wouldn’t I know about ‘em?”

“Not necessarily,” Cas said softly.

Dean then took the conversation seriously. “Stop talking in riddles.”

Cas blurted out, “Aphra believes that, since I used to be the legacy of Hades, you are a human reincarnation of Persephone.”

Dean was used to hearing a lot of crazy shit, but this just topped the list. “Say what now?”

Cas pinched the bridge of his nose and further explained, “Aphra’s evidence was the state of the bunker when we lived in it. I don’t know if you can remember that far back, but do you ever recall seeing,” Cas paused, “any dead plant life?”

Dean’s occasional eye as a Polaroid photographer was put to the test. He went over image after image of nature in his mind. He thought of the miles of trees near the bunker, the woods by the cabin they lived in, and any place he had hunted over the decades.

He had seen plenty of dead plants, but not as many after-

No. No way.

When Dean dug himself out of his own grave after spending forty years in Hell, that was the turning point. His memories of nature after that time, when Cas came into his life, went along with Aphrodite’s observation.

That couldn’t be right. But it was.

Dean had rarely seen a single dead plant after he came back from Hell. It was as if, instead of ruining him, Hell had cleansed him.

As Dean’s gears turned, he realized something else: his memories of nature were incredibly vibrant. Grass shouldn’t be that green. Soil shouldn’t be perfectly healthy year-round. Leaves and trees shouldn’t look so lively.

Dean knew part of this was due to an angel’s influence.

But, maybe...just maybe…

It was his unknowing influence too.

Dean considered these revelations and said to his husband, “okay. Two things. First, why didn’t you tell me this until now?”

Cas’s face fell. “I’m sorry. I have no excuse.”

Dean chose not to snap at his husband. He wanted an eternity loving Cas, not arguing with him. “Okay. Second, what do you want me to do with this?”

Cas worried his bottom lip in thought. “My working theory is that,” Cas glanced at the giant flying moth a few leagues from the skyscraper, “as the legacy of Persephone, you should be able to make plants grow.”

Dean turned around, an army of angels trying to corral the giant moth into one area. His eyes bore into Cas’s. “You want me to, like, grow vines and shit to bring Mothra down?”

Cas’s mouth quirked upwards. “I’ve gone completely insane, haven’t I?”

Dean stood across from his husband and smiled encouragingly. “No, darlin’. I think it sounds badass. And if it works,” Dean finished breathily, “we’re going to have such fun tonight.”

Cas rolled his eyes.

Dean rested their foreheads together. “You’ll be all over me and you know it, gorgeous.” Dean pecked Cas’s lips. “Now tell me how this should work.”

“Well,” Cas breathed, holding Dean in an embrace, “you know how you can just reach into your mind,” Cas brushed their noses together, their foreheads still touching, “and sense the bond between our souls?”

Dean hummed, his eyes fluttering closed.

“You should be able to reach into your mind and sense Persephone’s powers lying dormant within you. You should think of a memory surrounding nature to ground you as you search.”

Cas smelled so overpowering right now that Dean could hardly concentrate. 

In fact, his husband smelled like pine trees. One of Dean’s favorite scents.

Dean let his husband’s aroma overload his mind as he focused on the backs of his eyelids. He thought of a time when he and Cas wandered around the woods outside the bunker. There was nothing special about the memory, exactly. Dean had dozens just like it.

Until Dean let the image play like a film in his mind. 

It had snowed that day. It was almost winter, and weather in Kansas had gotten increasingly blustery. Cold winds bit at Dean and Cas’s skin. Even their layers of winter coats, scarves, and beanies didn’t help much with the coldness.

They braved the weather anyway, walking around the perimeter of the bunker. No one was really staying at the bunker. Sam and Gabriel had gone to have sex in the clouds somewhere, Charlie and Jo had gone on a road trip, and the wayward sisters were scattered around in different places. The usual residents of the bunker had taken vacations in warmer climates, leaving Dean and Cas completely alone in their home for the first time in years.

They passed fresh soil that seemed undying and immortal trees. 

Dean and Cas walked a quarter mile, their gloved hands interlocked for warmth, when flecks of white fell from the sky. The couple looked up and watched the first snow in Kansas drift from the atmosphere. 

Dean, like the child he was, stuck out his tongue. He laughed delightedly once some snow melted on his tongue. He tilted his head back down to its normal level with an easy smile on his face.

The way Cas smiled back at him made Dean’s stomach flutter with butterflies.

How they ended up making out against a tree trunk was anyone’s guess.

Actually, no it wasn’t. It was Dean’s doing.

Dean was incredibly pleased with himself that he got Cas’s pale cheeks to stain a beautiful pink color as they kissed. It wasn’t always easy to fluster his husband and catch him off guard. Cas chuckled and murmured between kisses, “can’t you take your hands off me for more than five minutes?”

“Nope,” Dean said, finally prying their lips apart. “I’m like a hummingbird. If my wings stop beating, or if I stop touching you, I’ll die.”

Cas snorted. “You’re ridiculous,” he said fondly. “Let’s get back inside.” Cas brushed flecks of snow off of Dean’s shoulders and beanie. “It’s going to get really cold any minute now.”

Dean was struck by the image of a blushing Cas bundled in clothing leaning against a tree trunk. Dean looked up, and saw that the tree leaves were a healthy orange. Only a select few had fallen to the ground. Dean thought it was a tad unnatural, but Cas lead him away before he could ruminate on it further.

Dean stopped the memory there, focusing on the snow and the tall pine trees and the strong soil. He let it ground him as he searched elsewhere in his mind. He thought of Persephone, the Greek goddess he had read about long ago. The goddess of the spring, of plants, of fertility. Dean felt ridiculous doing this, but it wasn’t the craziest idea to have the powers of a goddess within him.

The memory Dean was holding on to became crystal clear, the trees practically glowing with vibrant greens and browns.

Dean tentatively touched the tree trunk where Cas was standing in the memory earlier, and he was enveloped in light.

Dean opened his eyes, transported back to Balthazar’s office again, and instantly felt different.

Cas pulled away from their embrace slightly, his breath hitching at what he saw. “Your eyes,” he exhaled, awestruck.

Dean turned around and looked through the window’s reflection.

His eyes were bright green, the color of spring.

Dean turned around in Cas’s loose grip and stared at him for a few beats. It was as if he were seeing his husband through two sets of eyes. He caressed Cas’s jaw and swiped his thumb over Cas’s lips. “This feels strange, darlin’,” he said, his tone taking on a gentle cadence.

Cas smiled sweetly. “Hello, Persephone.”

Dean’s heart skipped a beat in realization. “So this is what it felt like for you. When you used to be Hades, I mean.”

Cas nodded. “How do you feel?”

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas’s neck. “I feel wonderful.” On a whim, Dean kissed Cas softly. It felt more intense than usual. Dean hummed into it happily, the energy running through his veins sparking and thrumming at the contact.

Dean pulled away and smiled. “I’m ready to take down Mothra.”

Cas said, “you should be able to use your powers from here.”

“Really?” Dean asked skeptically.

“Yeah. It’s,” Cas looked out the window, “close enough for you to try.”

Dean regretfully left Cas’s warm embrace and leaned against the window again. The giant moth had holes in its wings, but it needed extra oomph to ground it. The angel army was doing as well as they were able. Dean knew Balthazar and Jack were down there somewhere, counting on Cas’s shot-in-the-dark plan to work.

Dean focused on the grass field, concentrating, breathing, willing for a blade of it to grow. He caught glimpses of his chosen memory behind his vision.

Before Dean’s very eyes, an entire beanstalk grew from a single blade of grass, straight out of a fairytale. Vines as thick as tree trunks sprouted from the base, angels scattering to give Dean room. Dean focused on the vines, spreading them out to create a structure. The moth was suddenly trapped in a cage of thick throbbing vines.

Dean’s breath hitched. 

Holy shit. He was doing it.

The moth thrashed in its cage, trying its damnedest to break free from the strong vegetation.

Not gonna happen.

Dean imagined poisonous spikes, and they grew from the vines. The giant moth was punctured by several of them, and howled in pain from the deadly poison.

Dean felt bad for the flying beast, but it had started to damage the grass field with acid spit.

Plants fought back.

The moth crashed to the bottom of the cage. Dean made his beanstalk retract, lowering the weakened monster to the ground. Dean concentrated, and the beanstalk reverted back to a slightly longer blade of grass. For good measure, angels threw Molotov cocktails at the moth, the creature making an awful screeching sound as it burned to ashes.

Dean felt the power of Persephone leave him naturally, returning to the depths of his mind and body. Dean saw in the window’s reflection that his irises had returned to an emerald color. He was completely in control of himself again.

Dean turned away from the window and the view splayed out before him.

And fell into Cas’s arms, suddenly feeling very sleepy.

————

Dean awoke to a faraway conversation being spoken somewhere to his left.

“-even did that.” Balthazar’s voice. 

“Well, I’m-” Cas’s voice, the sentence cut off by the sound of the refrigerator door opening.

He was at home, then.

Dean moved his body a little in discomfort. He heard the faint sound of Soda nearby.

He was on the couch. He must not have been unconscious for long.

Balthazar said something garbled, and Dean groaned in frustration. He wished he could hear them.

The room fell silent. 

Except for Soda’s pitter-pattering. 

The Labrador retriever suddenly appeared near Dean, sniffing him curiously. Dean pet Soda’s fur and wiped sleep from his eyes. Soda pattered away, and Dean heard footsteps approaching him. His husband knelt beside him, the scent of pine trees enveloping Dean for the second time that day.

“Hey,” Cas said in a hushed tone, “how do you feel?”

“Good,” Dean said tiredly. “Nothing Heaven hoodoo can’t fix.”

Balthazar appeared in Dean’s vision. “Sup, Dean. What you did was pretty badass. Thanks for the assist.”

“Aw, you’re gonna make me blush and clutch my pearls,” Dean drawled.

Balthazar and Cas chuckled.

The archangel said, “I’ll leave you to it, then.” Balthazar waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Dean and Cas didn’t even try to deny it. Balthazar flew away with a smug smirk on his face.

Dean and Cas met each other’s eyes. They both blushed instinctually.

Cas murmured, “you were amazing, Dean. I’m really impressed.”

“And turned on?” Dean asked hopefully.

Cas huffed. “I’m not going to jump your bones in this condition.”

“I feel fine. I promise, darlin’,” Dean reassured Cas. He sat up and didn’t feel any lightheadedness.

Heaven was awesome.

Dean stood up from the couch easily, Cas standing up as well.

“So,” Dean asked, “wanna go be horizontal somewhere else?”

Cas studied Dean’s expression, gauging if he was well enough. A moment later, Cas smiled, an indication that Dean passed his inspection. Cas tilted his head upwards and kissed Dean sweetly. “You’re so lucky you’re cute.”

**Author's Note:**

> Five more left! This story arc will be wrapping up soon. The next part will be out in a few days! Kudos and comments are appreciated!


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